


Faith

by Useless19



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: War for Cybertron Trilogy (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Zombies, post-Siege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless19/pseuds/Useless19
Summary: Taking the Allspark away from Cybertron didn't kill the planet, it merely allowed Unicron to further its infection.
Relationships: Elita One & Megatron
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you've got to write the (extremely cut down so it actually gets finished) fic you want to see in the world.

The energon glowed tantalisingly before Elita. Dark with unfiltered silicates and all the more appetising for it. The Decepticons had done a good job of holding onto their mines for the time being.

"I'm beginning to think you don't trust me," Megatron said, voice rough from exhaustion but full of amusement.

"I wonder why." Elita picked up the cube and didn't drink. "The Deceptions are still our enemy."

"As the Autobots are ours," Megatron said easily. "But less of a threat than our mutual foe."

Even that vague reference made the shadows lengthen. Soundwave's visor flashed from his position behind Megatron's shoulder, scanning for activity.

Megatron leant forward, resting his elbows on the slab of rock that was serving as a negotiating table, and steepled his digits. It was with no small amount of discomfort that Elita had to throttle her combat systems from reacting to being under that intense red gaze.

"You asked for this ceasefire," Megatron said. "Why should I accept?"

"There are fewer Autobots than Deceptions on Cybertron," Elita said. "It's been that way for some time. But that's because we're better at hiding and scavenging. We've been living under your threat for a long time. We know how to survive and this fight will be no different."

"True," Megatron said. "Yet such tactics are unsuitable for the size of the army under my command. What can you offer me?"

"Have your greater numbers helped you at all against what's out there?" Elita snapped. "You've just given the hoard more soldiers to kill us all with."

Starscream's wings flared as he stepped forward and started to warm up his weaponry. "She doesn't respect you, Lord Megatron. Please, allow me to make an example of these Autobots."

Jetfire stepped up to Elita's side. She held up a hand to stop him. The Autobots would not be the ones to break this truce.

"Silence, Starscream," Megatron said. "This is not the time for your theatrics."

Which was rich, coming from him. Somewhere, there was a thread of sensibility in Megatron's brain module after all. Elita took a sip of her energon. Refreshing, with no hint of poison. She determinedly didn't gulp it down to quiet the insistent pings from her fuel gauge — it would be foolish to show weakness here and now.

"But Lord Megatron —"

"Enough!"

Starscream slunk back, shooting venomous glares at both Elita and Megatron as he did so.

"You took down Cybertron's infrastructure," Elita said. "You blew up the Space Bridge that would lead us to the Allspark. If you truly care about Cybertron, you know that working with us is the only way we'll survive."

"And your leader, Optimus Prime, took the Allspark from Cybertron and allowed U—" Megatron cut himself off. His engine turned over in annoyance. "And allowed the Unmaker to spread its poison throughout Cybertron. It is not only Deceptions who are at fault."

Elita fought past the wave of grief that hit her. This was important, far more important than her feelings about Optimus's death.

"Which is why we have to put aside our differences to combat the bigger threat," Elita said stiffly. "Our foe is too powerful to face alone. If we waste time and resources fighting each other it will only give the hoard an easy victory."

"Something I despise giving my opponents," Megatron said. He leant back in his chair and took a long drink of energon. "You have my attention."

That was surprising. Elita had been prepared to argue in circles for far longer before any capitulation from Megatron.

"We need to repair the planet's infrastructure," Elita said. "We have the mechs available, however, they can't do repairs and fend off the hoard at the same time."

"Autobot infrastructure requires Autobot maintenance. Useful communications and security systems would help in our fight," Megatron agreed. "And you want my Decepticons to _bodyguard_ your engineers?"

Exposing the Decepticons to the worst of the hoard while the Autobots were protected. Elita knew how it sounded, but there was no other way. The Decepticons couldn't fix the infrastructure and there were too few Autobots to effectively guard anyone while they made the attempt.

"That's only step one," Elita said. "Once we've reestablished communications we can locate the source of this disease and put an end to the spread."

Elita pushed forward her proposal, letting the holographic map of Cybertron display. There were a sickening number of glowing purple sections covering the surface of the planet. Megatron glanced at it.

"I suppose you want me to avoid finishing the Autobot resistance once you've made your repairs," Megatron said. "Even though it would give us the advantage of ensuring we aren't stabbed in the back once our current enemy is destroyed?"

He shot a glare at Jetfire.

"You can't survive this alone," Elita said. He wasn't _listening_.

"Yes, yes, you've said as much," Megatron said. "Any new deactivated frames would only increase the Unmaker's army and imprisoning you all would be a waste of our resources. What assurances can you give me that you won't shoot me in the back given the chance? I know you hold practicality a higher trait than _honour_."

He _was_ listening.

Elita gave a grim smile.

"Then let's talk terms."

* * *

"I notice you are often surprised when I agree with your judgements," Megatron said.

Elita didn't startle — she wouldn't be worth her weapons systems if she couldn't tell when a tank was approaching her, on or off the battlefield — however, despite their shaky alliance, it was a surprise that Megatron had decided to talk to her between missions and meetings.

"You're trying to run a tyrannical dictatorship," Elita pointed out. "That's not something that usually allows for differences of opinion."

Megatron stepped up alongside Elita, looking over the map of Iacon and the newly noted crystal clusters spreading ever further. It was oddly familiar — so long of Elita's functioning had been spent pouring over battle plans — yet there was the extra tension of knowing that Megatron might try to kill her at any moment.

But for now, she would have to have faith.

"Prime never listened to me, either," Megatron said.

Elita stiffened. "I don't want to talk about Optimus."

"Oh, but I _do_."

Megatron might know how to get a rise out Elita, but Elita knew just as many ways to get under his plating.

"I'd prefer to talk about Alpha Trion," Elita said sharply.

Megatron's optics narrowed and a sneer pulled at his mouth. WIth anyone else, Elita would call this a stalemate and move on, but Megatron could never leave well enough alone.

"What a noble saint, was Alpha Trion," Megatron spat. "To show such generosity to an illiterate miner and no other. To try and reform such a brute into a model citizen. To speak of progress being slow when my brothers and sisters had been bleeding for so long and needed change _now_."

"You killed him under a flag of truce," Elita said.

"There was no truce!" Megatron bellowed.

"That doesn't make sense. Optimus —"

"Knows nothing of it!" Megatron's optics glowed brightly with his fury. Elita's combat protocols fired up, ready for action. "Alpha Trion knew what he was walking into. I gave him fair warning."

There was pain there, behind the anger. Elita only spotted it because she'd spent time fighting alongside Megatron recently. It was always surreal to notice that your enemy had a spark beneath the bluster and arrogance.

However, spark or not, the fact remained that Megatron had snuffed out Alpha Trion's life.

"Like you'll give me fair warning when our truce is over?" Elita asked.

A slow smile spread across Megatron's faceplates. "I have no intention of killing you while you still prove to be a useful resource, Elita." He looked over Elita's half-constructed plan on the screen. "Inventive. If the Autobots had been this vicious against us you might have won by now."

"And if the Decepticons hadn't stooped to using tactics like these on living mechs you might have convinced more to join your side," Elita shot back.

"Effective or nice," Megatron said. "You can't have both."

"Is that how you've been justifying it to yourself?"

 _Effective_ wasn't even the right word. Yes, Megatron was a better leader than Optimus, as much as it pained Elita to admit, even in the privacy of her own brain module, but the Decepticons were a mess for a reason. Elita had worked with front-line soldiers against cutthroat aliens with a taste for assassination, and they'd still recharged more soundly than the average Decepticon.

"Weak circuits get you killed," Megatron said. "Often by your own servo."

"Optimus believed in people enough to get them to believe in themselves," Elita said. "That's far more effective than fear."

"So we _are_ talking about Optimus now?" Megatron asked snidely. "Prime didn't believe in anyone beyond himself. Or was it some _other_ mech who stole the Allspark against every recommendation from his supposedly trusted advisors?"

"You're not going to change my mind about Optimus being a good person," Elita said steadily.

"And what did that get you?"

Loyalty. _Love_.

"Something you will _never_ understand."

* * *

Megatron fell.

Elita was only peripherally aware of it happening, too busy fending off her own attackers. The sparkless were relentless. Grabbing. Clawing. Biting.

Elita shot the helm off of one. Sickly purple energon splattered her faceplates. Another was dispatched in the same way, but the third stabbed for her spark and hit her abdomen instead. She hissed.

Her fingers were thin enough to get into its throat cabling and tear it out. Elita pushed it to the floor then shot it through its empty spark chamber to make sure.

Elita ran a damage report. The last one had managed to rupture her fuel tank, but otherwise, she was functional. She shouldn't have let that hit get in; extended front-line fighting coupled with low rations was making her sloppy.

Still, she was better off than Megatron.

Megatron had stumbled back under the onslaught and down into the underpass. It had gone silent and Elita told herself it was only practical concern she was feeling as she carefully made her way over to the hole and peered down.

It wasn't as deep as Elita thought and there was a useful slope of scree that she could use to get down. She could see a growing puddle of energon that was leaking from Megatron.

Elita could leave him to bleed out now. No one would blame her for it.

Without Megatron, the Decepticons would fracture — their loyalty was to him first and the Cause second, petty infighting would break them down without Megatron's iron fist keeping them in line. Without Megatron, Cybertron would be free.

Without Megatron, Elita would die here.

Elita gritted her clutch and pulled herself shakily down to Megatron's near-deactivated frame. She had minutes at most before the next wave would hit, so she worked quickly, pausing occasionally to cough up energon from her ruptured fuel tank.

He'd lost an arm and one of his optics was cracked beyond repair. Elita had gone over their medical supplies yesterday and knew they didn't have replacements.

Of course, Megatron being Megatron, there was a high chance he would tear any spare parts he needed off of a random Decepticon. It left a sour taste in Elita's mouth and she made a note to talk to the medics first. Encouraging frame cannibalism was bad for morale — especially given how the sparkless ripped mechs apart.

Elita's repairs would have to do until they returned to base. She shot a jolt of electricity into Megatron's side to online him — then had to block a blind swing.

"Megatron!" Elita snapped, two centuries of shouting commands at hapless, new-sparked soldiers infusing her vocaliser. "Stand down!"

Megatron stilled, then reset his vocaliser with a nasty grinding noise. "How long?"

"If our calculations are right? Thirty seconds," Elita said. "Can you transform?"

"Yes, however," Megatron pushed himself to his pedes, "my alt-mode is unsuitable for the terrain."

Despair welled within Elita as she took in their surroundings with fresh optics. The bloody crystals had torn up the roads far more than Red Alert had predicted. Their alt-modes could get through, but not fast.

"I guess we're walking then," Elita said.

A shriek heralded the next wave of sparkless. Elita raised her pistol.

"Or running."

Megatron raised his arm, fusion cannon whirring to life. There was a heavy crystal growth that, if hit correctly, would buy them time as it collapsed into the main street.

Megatron didn't take the shot.

"Hurry up!"

"My targeting systems are glitching," Megatron said, sounding like it pained him to admit it.

Elita rammed her shoulder under Megatron's cannon arm and took aim.

"Fire," she ordered.

Megatron locked his arm and fired. Elita's combat systems panicked for a fraught second — the sound of Megatron's cannon firing was etched into every Autobot's nightmares — before she got a hold of them and shifted his arm to the next section.

"Fire."

That was all it took. Elita turned and ran as the Unmaker's blood shattered, raining jagged crystal shards down on the sparkless attempting to claw their way out of the ground. Heavy footsteps told her Megatron was right behind her.

"You continue to surprise me, Elita," Megatron said, his longer stride was making up for his heavy armour slowing him down. "I didn't expect to online after that."

"It was the smart choice," Elita said.

"It was. I didn't expect an Autobot to see it." Megatron stopped running. "There are more ahead."

Elita skidded to a halt. The main roads were blocked and crawling with sparkless.

"This way." Elita took a side street.

If she was remembering correctly, this would take her to —

 _Yes_. The Iacon Outskirts Highway. Even the thickest crystal growths wouldn't be able to block the entire eight-lane motorway.

Elita transformed, glad to get her wheels back under her. Megatron followed suit with an unhealthy _chunk-chunk-chunk-clank_ as his t-cog slipped twice before biting.

He was missing a heavy section of armour that must have been where his arm went, but tracks on the ground were still faster than pedes, even if Elita had to keep her speedometer low to keep in line with Megatron.

"Once we're out on the flats I'll call in a rendezvous," Elita said.

There was an itch under her plating, the kind of instinct that had kept her alive throughout the war — the feeling of being watched. Cybertronians couldn't technically see in alt-mode, but they had other senses to make up for the lack of optics. Elita could tell Megatron was regarding her.

"What?"

"You are practical and clever. Willing to see the right path and _take_ it," Megatron said. "You would make an excellent Decepticon."

Somehow, Elita hadn't expected _recruitment_.

But then, she kept forgetting how much of an ego Megatron had. When they were discussing battle plans or putting resources into cures or even talking of a united future, there were moments when Megatron could be reasonable. Then he would say something like that and Elita would be sharply reminded of the war and everything it had cost her.

She would _never_ become a Decepticon.

"When I was stationed in Praxus and heard the Decepticons were coming, I almost stepped aside to let them through," Elita said. "I knew Optimus a little by then and he always spoke of your crusade with such passion. _They may appear to be an unruly mob, but their message is true and their cause is just_ , he used to say."

"How _generous_ of him," Megatron grumbled. "What changed your mind?"

"Nyon."

"Ah. One of my better scare tactics, but my worst recruitment one."

Of course Megatron would talk about uncountable deaths as a _scare tactic_.

* * *

Elita onlined in a panic.

There had been crystals, so many crystals, and the sparkless had poured unendingly out of the ground. She'd been sure she was going to die.

Elita sat up, wincing at the flood of damage reports cluttering up her HUD. She nearly overbalanced before she realised what _ambulatory system: 50% offline_ meant.

Her right leg was gone. There was nothing left from the hip down.

That didn't explain how she'd survived. Elita took in her surroundings and was somehow unsurprised to find Megatron sitting next to her in the small overhang that was keeping off the rain.

He was sending a message, but looked down at Elita when she cleared her vocaliser.

"You're awake then," Megatron said. "Jetfire will rendezvous with us once the rain clears."

"You saved me," Elita said.

"It was the smart choice," Megatron said.

Except that wasn't strictly true. With only one arm, Megatron would have had to have made the choice between protecting himself and carrying Elita. The barrel of his cannon was smudged with dried dark pink energon — he must have wasted enough power to heat it and seal the ragged energon lines spilling out of Elita's missing leg.

For the first time since asking for a truce, Elita believed that Megatron wanted this to work.

Yes, there would still be lots to clean up once this fight against the Chaos Bringer was over, but they were still all Cybertronian and this team-up had reminded them of that fact.

"I think Ultra Magnus wanted me to kill him," Megatron said.

Elita wished she had a gun.

" _How_ ," she spat, "could you possibly think that?!"

There was a far-off look of sorrow in Megatron's remaining optic. Eerily similar to the look Optimus used to get when he was talking about Megatron having chosen the wrong path.

This wasn't about Optimus. Elita forced herself to focus on her righteous fury for Magnus — not as prominent as her grief for Optimus, but Magnus had always been a good friend in the fight. Taking on his duties directly had given Elita a new appreciation for how well Magnus had been keeping the Autobots' administration running alongside being a good commander.

"When Magnus came to me, he came to surrender," Megatron said. "Yet there was no capitulation. He had a fair chance to negotiate, but he brought nothing to the table. No rough suggestions on how he would persuade the rest of the Autobots to follow his lead. No demands for Autobot territories and supply-lines. No, heh," Megaron smiled faintly, "no rules that we should both follow."

Confusion took the wind out of Elita's sails.

"Then what _did_ he ask for?" Elita said.

"To end the war — by sitting and talking like old friends, not military commanders," Megatron said. "I'm beginning to suspect his frustration at being unheard was not solely aimed at me."

Frustration, guilt, and grief hit Elita in equal measure.

_Optimus, why couldn't you have listened to us?_

"And, as the light left his optics, Ultra Magnus smiled," Megatron finished. He sounded haunted.

"Would you have listened to his proposals had he brought them?" Elita asked.

Had there been a chance to end things peacefully after all? Before the Allspark had gone and they'd ended up in the Pit?

Megatron thought for a long minute.

"No," he said at last. "Not then."

"That's what I thought." It came out far less accusatory than Elita had intended.

She was so _tired_.

* * *

Elita limped forward. Her prosthetic leg was slightly too long and only good until she transformed. They were running out of everything — parts, energon, _time_.

The false Allspark was strapped to Elita's back with a magnetic sling. It was inert, yet Elita swore it gave a weak pulse as they approached the fortress of purple crystal that held the entrance to the Pit.

This was it, the source of Unicron's infection. If they could stop it here, this would all be over.

"It's too quiet," Megatron said, echoing Elita's thoughts.

"We can't turn back now." Elita strode forward.

The ground beneath her pedes changed the second she stepped through the archway. Rough, tumbled stone became brittle shards. Elita looked down and had to manually override her purging systems.

Frames, dead and grey, littered the floor. Elita couldn't even see if there was ground beneath them.

"Don't get squeamish on me now, Elita," Megatron said. His heavier pedes were sinking further into the corpses than Elita. He transformed instead and his wide treads did a much better job of keeping him above the broken frames.

Elita hopped onto his alt-mode rather than wade through the wreckage. Thankfully it turned out to be a rare time where Megatron let his sense override his pride — he wanted the false Allspark out of Unicron's clutches more than he wanted Elita's wheels off his hood.

"Why aren't they attacking us?" Elita asked, her voice came out muffled in the hushed cavern.

"Can't you sense it? These aren't sparkless," Megatron replied. "Our enemy's focus is without the Pit." He stopped then moved his cannon barrel around searchingly. "You will have to navigate."

Easier said than done. The darkness was oppressive and the only landmark Elita could see was the vanishing archway they'd entered through. Even with fully functioning optics, choosing a path was tantamount to guessing.

"Keep going forward," Elita ordered. "We don't know what we're looking for, so the deeper the better."

"I know our goal," Megatron said with a growl of his engine.

Save Elita from Decepticon ego.

They continued into the dark, leaving a trail of crunched-up frames under Megatron's treads. Yet the sharp glow of light from the exit didn't diminish any further. When Elita zoomed her optics back, the trail Megatron was leaving wasn't distinguishable amidst the rest of the corpses.

"We're not making any progress," Elita said.

"We don't have time to waste guessing," Megatron snapped. "Unless you have a titanium-solid suggestion, be silent."

They didn't have time to argue over this. Elita needed to figure this out before Megatron got too angry and ruined the mission.

All the myths that told of the Pit spoke of how difficult it was to leave. How could that help?

"Turn around," Elita said slowly. "We need to leave."

Megatron stopped dead.

"If you're too weak-circuited, then leave yourself," Megatron snarled. "Hand over the Allspark and I will go alone."

"Not like that," Elita said. "Everything says that if we want to leave, we have to accept our fate and return to the centre of the Pit. We want to go _in_ , so we need to try to leave."

"How does that make more sense?" Megatron said.

"We're not getting deeper right now," Elita said. "Just… ha, just have faith."

"I _despise_ that sentiment."

Yet Megatron turned. As soon as he gunned towards the exit, the light vanished.

"It's working," Elita said.

Megatron didn't say anything, which meant he agreed but didn't want to say so.

The gloom was so oppressive and the frames disappeared so gradually that Elita didn't notice until Megaton's treads stopped crunching and ran smoothly over coarse purple sand. Close examination revealed it was crushed crystals.

"This is far enough." That was all the warning Megatron gave before he transformed.

Elita stumbled her landing and shot a glare at him. "We could get closer."

"This is far enough," Megatron repeated. "Haven't you spent enough time around Prime to know the Matrix's opposite?"

Now that he mentioned it, Elita could feel a distinct chill in her oil pipes. An irritability in her emotional core that made her want to argue with Megatron for no reason.

"You're right," Elita forced herself to say.

She unslung the false Allspark and held it up. It was inert, no sign of the weak pulses that Elita had noticed before entering the Pit.

"I think I understand Ultra Magnus's decision now," Megatron said, watching the false Allspark with grim determination. "Such a small chance of success, yet here I am, because I cannot stand the current situation any longer. If I die, so be it — at least I tried."

"I didn't…" Elita laughed humourlessly. It was hopeless and all she could do was try. "I didn't think it would end like this."

"I thought if I was going to die beside an Autobot it would be Prime," Megatron said. "I find this to be preferable."

His chest plates slowly opened with an old pneumatic hiss. His spark looked strangely small amidst his heavy armour. They were all the same beneath the badges.

Elita opened her spark chamber with a much smoother click. The last time she'd done this, it had been with Optimus. Legend held that all sparks would be reunited in the Allspark after they extinguished. Would that still be the case for her? Would she know Optimus's light again?

"Second thoughts?" Megatron taunted.

"We're well beyond that," Elita said. "Ready?"

Megatron nodded. "Goodbye."

They both pressed forward, sparks merging into the fabricated Allspark shell that Shockwave had put together. For a moment, there was complete calm.

Then a planet-shaking roar destroyed Elita's audials. She watched with more than optics as her frame collapsed, empty and deactivated.

Something huge and malevolent regarded her and the other spark she was entwined with. Something gargantuan and evil that hadn't considered her in the slightest until the False Allspark had lit within its heart.

The Chaos Bringer. The Devourer of Worlds. The Unmaker.

Unicron.

Its focus was pain. Elita gathered herself and blindly glared right back.

" _Get off our planet_ ," Elita said without a voice.

Unicron screeched and the crystal fortress exploded into shards.

Elita wrapped herself in a shield for force, aided by the other — Megatron's — spark. The purple shards hurt when they hit, but they couldn't piece the Allspark's plating.

" _You will not destroy us. You will not destroy Cybertron_ ," Megatron said in words that couldn't be heard by regular audials.

They pulsed. A crackling wave of electricity and energon. Life itself to combat entropy. It swept through the planet, igniting hotspots and refreshing energon mines.

Elita could feel the slow drag of Unicron's poison leech out of Cybertron's core. Unicron faded back but didn't disappear like she hoped it would. It remained fixated on them, waiting, Elita realised, for their vigil to grow lax. Waiting to claim Cybertron.

Let it wait. Elita would hold out as long as was necessary.

" _There's a new spark field in Tarn_ ," Megatron said, full of wonder.

" _And one by Nyon_ ," Elita said. She could _feel_ them.

She could feel _all_ of them. Every last Autobot and Decepticon on the planet's surface. She could feel their confusion/elation/disbelief as Unicron's blood receded.

And there, far from the planet and ever so faint, but, to Elita's eternal joy, _alive_ —

" _Optimus!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over at [transformersvn.tumblr.com](https://transformersvn.tumblr.com) where I make Transformers visual novels.


End file.
